Higher Than the Sky
by aeriedescent
Summary: Luna's easy swaying was different. Normal. In fact, he felt incredibly normal, like any other student dancing with their date. Even if he was Harry "The Chosen One" Potter and she was Luna "Loony" Lovegood; the least normal pairing of them all. Growing collection of H/L oneshots.
1. Chapter 1

Notes: This little drabble takes place during OOTP. Almost cannon, but not quite: Harry's been banished from Quidditch earlier in the term and Hagrid isn't back from his Giant mission yet.

I don't own Harry Potter or any of it's characters.

* * *

"You miss it, don't you?"

Her sudden question broke the silence of the clearing, echoing faintly through the trees surrounding them. Harry's vacant stare snapped up from the textbook nestled in his lap to focus on the almost-silver haired girl standing a few paces away from him. She had stopped stroking the crest of a thestral to turn and peer down at him, her gaze discerning as always. As if she could melt away his exteriors and see straight to his most inner thoughts.

"Miss what?"

Luna considered him for another moment before turning her attention back to the whinnying thestral, her long plait swinging off of her shoulder.

"Quidditch." She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, as if she was surprised he hadn't read her mind and realized what she meant in the first place.

Harry frowned at her back. She was right of course, but he'd be lying if he said he was used to her being able to read him like that. It was unsettling. Like a dream where he forgot his robes and had to go to class stripped down to his knickers.

"Well, yeah... I do."

His gaze fell back to his textbook without actually reading it, trying hard not to imagine the practice taking place on the other side of the grounds without him. His banishment from Quidditch wasn't the only thing causing him unneeded stress, rather it was just the icing on the cake. But without being able to participate in his favorite sport, he had no way to release the mounting anxious energy pooling in his bones. It was for that that reason that he had started accompanying Luna on her nightly thestral feeding ritual, well, when he wasn't in detention, though he had never voiced that fact aloud to her. And she never asked. Despite weekly D.A. meetings providing a small relief, he found it quite difficult to focus on his ever growing pile of O.W.L. studies when the view of the Quidditch pitch teased him from the common room window. And the library. _And_ the great hall, for Merlin's sake. The clearing, the trees, the thestrals and Luna's gentle humming had in turn become something of a solace for him.

After a low sigh, he asked "How can you tell?"

She fished out the remaining chunk of raw meat from her sack and tossed it to the center of the heard. The lot of thestrals rushed towards it, tearing it to pieces with their sharp teeth. Luna watched them, head tilted ever so slightly, before turning and walking towards him in four long strides. The late autumn air swirled around her, pulling tendrils of her hair loose. They seemed to float as she sank down to the ground beside him, crossing her legs beneath her and facing him perpendicularly.

"Umber, told me." Her favorite thestral, who was now happily licking his chops. Luna tore her over the shoulder gaze from the inky black creature to meet Harry with earnest eyes. "He can read minds, you know." Her serious, wide eyed expression only held for a couple of heartbeats before a traitorous giggle fought its way to the surface. She tried unsuccessfully to conceal its tugging at the corners of her lips with her fingertips.

Harry groaned in mock annoyance, head falling back to rest on the tree trunk cradling his back, surveying the curious witch sideways through his fringe. Mind reading thestrals was apparently out of the realm of possibilities, but selkies having a monopoly on the cauldron industry on the other hand, _that_ was plausible. He was positive he'd never fully understand Luna. Her expression sobered under his gaze, but she did not shy away from it.

"You seem tense... anxious. I can feel it rolling off of you in waves." Her uncanny ability to read him so easily once again left him feeling naked. Unable to meet her stare any longer he shifted his knees into his chest, his forearms forming a bridge a top for his chin to rest. His textbook slid off his lap, long since forgotten, landing closed with a _slap._

If anyone else had said that, even Hermione who had with mixed results tried to coax him out of a sour mood plenty of times, he would've gone off on one. Luna's comment however wasn't prying in anyway, it was just that: a comment, an impartial observation. Feeling an odd and unknown urge overcome him, Harry rolled his thoughts around on his minds tongue; trying to arrange them properly before voicing them.

"Hogwarts is my... my – it's the only good place I've got." He swallowed the urge to choke up. It rolled down his throat painfully, slowly. "And first with Defense against the Dark Arts, and now Quidditch... there's nothing – she's taking away everything that makes it good."

He could feel her continued heavy gaze on him, but she did not speak right away. His confession hung stubbornly in the air around them and he wished that he could yank it back and shove it down where it had come from.

"All good things must come to an end." Finally, she muttered sagely. Harry sputtered, incredulous at her tactlessness; he had just voiced a personal and vulnerable thought, had been completely candid only to have Luna wave it off as nothing. He uncurled from his position and lurched towards her, fists curling at his side

"How could you – all good things must come to an end? Luna that's –" He spat, but she interrupted his oncoming onslaught with a delicately raised finger. Their voices clashed, until he relented to silence to allow Luna to explain herself.

"It's all a cycle, Harry. There must be bad in order for good to shine in contrast. Even though what we're going through now is terrible, Umbridge is in her good phase. Even if her version of 'good' is atrocious..." She grimaced, finally looking away from him, past his silhouette and out into the sunlight slowly sinking through the trees. "What I meant was that her good, too, must come to an end. We'll make sure of it, I know we will... I know that _you will._ "

Her statement only helped minutely in diminishing the initial sting, and he met her now genuinely earnest look from back upon his forearms. Her perturbant eyes, normally glassy and out of reach were piercing, focused now entirely on the raven haired wizard glowering back at her. She gently knocked her knee against his ankle, as if to say, _I'm sorry._

"How can you be so sure?" His voice was barely a whisper.

She sighed, looking down at her hands as her fingers twisted and intertwined. Shrugging lightly before returning his gaze once more with a small, sad smile.

"I have hope – that tomorrow will be better than today. Otherwise, how can we move forward?"

Harry could only blink at her, slowly digesting the query she posed. He didn't have an answer.

They sat in silence as dusk commenced, basking the clearing in a rosy hue. Gentle _clips_ signaled them of the thestrals departure, venturing deeper into the woods for the night. The forest was spurring to life around them with critters buzzing and the faint sound of bat wings flapping in the distance. Without the warmth of the sun, the breeze tore through Harry's cloak, breaking the spell of his musings. Their conversation hadn't really made him feel any better, but the tight knot in his chest felt less sharp, duller than it had before. It was a start.

Silently, he gathered his book and stood, offering his hand to Luna. Grasping it, she followed in suit. Together they walked back up to the castle, the diminishing sunlight their only guide; darkness at their heels, wishing to swallow them whole.

* * *

Title is from [love is more thicker than forget] by e.e. cummings

I really enjoy the idea of Harry and Luna as a couple, their scenes together in the movies have so much chemistry. Especially the one introducing the thestrals; I can easily imagine the two of them starting some unspoken tradition of visiting them together. For this, I wanted to experiment with them in a less heavy romantic-wise setting, to kinda get a feel for their dynamic. Hopefully I captured it realistically, I feel like they would balance each other out: Luna calming Harry's emotional spurts and Harry being able to ground Luna a bit more.

Thank you so much for reading! I'm always open to suggestion/constructive criticism/ideas for continuing this. I have some inklings for more one-shots to add onto here later, but I can be slow as molasses sometimes. So don't hold your breath!

-M


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

* * *

He should've gone to bed.

Slughorn's office was a swirl of festive colors and deafening music, overstimulating after coming back from the dark and quiet corridors. While the party's festive atmosphere seemed to have bloomed in his absence, Harry felt completely drained of any holiday cheer. The irony was not lost on him.

It was damning, what he'd overheard in that classroom. He now had concrete proof that Malfoy was plotting something sinister and Snape was trying, albeit with little success, to assist him. But here Harry was, meandering back into the pointless party, fiddling while Hogwarts was being put in motion to burn.

Harry briefly considered running to inform Dumbledore, but the idea dissolved as he remembered how any previous discussion of the Slytherin's subterfuge had been promptly shut down. Dumbledore would probably wave it off, saying something equally dismissive and vague. Harry's fists clenched, stubby nails digging crescents into his palms.

He could tell Ron and Hermione, separately of course, as their friendship was still on the fritz; this bit of information would no doubt convince them that he wasn't going barmy over his suspicions concerning Malfoy.

Suddenly remembering that his bushy haired friend was attending the very same party in which he was loitering in the entryway of, Harry craned over the swarming crowd to search for Hermione. But alas, there was no sign of her. She had probably fled for safety from Mclaggen. Serves her right, Harry thought bitterly.

He did, however, spot Luna. Her silver spangled dress robes glowed under the reddish light in a way that was almost mesmerizing, if not easy to distinguish amongst the masses. She hovered near the refreshment table, swaying slightly and admiring the intricate wreaths woven in between the ceiling hangings.

"Any nargles up there?" Harry asked as he approached her, his attempt at humor sounding dull even to his own ears.

"Oh yes," Luna answered dreamily, silver eyes slowly drifting down to acknowledge him. She handed him a fresh goblet of mead, which he hadn't noticed her holding. "You have that foreboding look to you, did you run into any feathered wyverns on your moonlight flit?"

"Can't say I did," He mumbled before throwing back the liquid in one gulp. It burned slightly, but wasn't altogether unpleasant. It helped simmer his angry stream of thoughts, if only just a little.

"Well, you should be careful. It's said they latch onto those who eavesdrop."

Harry nearly choked on the last of his mead. But before he could stifle his ensuing cough and come up with a calculated rebuttal, a red faced Slughorn emerged from the crowd with another intoxicated wizard in tow.

"Harry, m'boy! I need to introduce you to my dear friend here, Enoch Blackwood." Slughorn slurred, jostling his companion around the shoulder. Enoch shook Harry's hand, squinting at him through tiny round spectacles. The flush from his plump cheeks reached all the way to his bald scalp.

"It's a pleasure, Mr. Potter. An absolute pleasure. Horace speaks so highly of you." Enoch's eyes, although a bit bleary, immediately sought out the scar hidden beneath the mop of fringe. Or so Harry thought, until his eyes arched back and forth over his head, as if tracing a halo. "Forgive me, but I am an Aurologist, and I'd be _just_ tickled to do a full reading session with you. With a past as... well, troubled as yours, no doubt your aura is filled with many intricate and complicated layers."

He _really_ should've gone to bed.

Add to the mix another one of Slughorn's colleagues who wanted to leech off of the fame of the Boy-Who-Lived, and if Harry wasn't cross enough already, he was absolutely seething now. He barely managed to contain himself through clenched teeth and even tighter clenched fists.

Fortunately, preventing him from spitting out a biting remark, Luna swept in, grabbing Harry's hand and turning towards him to partially block off the two wizards from view. They stepped back in surprise, having been completely oblivious to her presence mere moments ago.

"Actually, Harry and I were about to dance." Luna cut in with her usual airy tone, not even sparing the courtesy of looking them in the eye; her bright gaze only held his, and the anger began to slowly siphon out under it. "So, if you'll excuse us."

And with that, she pulled a dumbfounded Harry through the crowd, leaving an equally dumbfounded Professor Slughorn and Enoch Blackwood in her wake.

The music grew steadily louder as they neared the far corner of the enlarged room. There, a trio of musicians was propped up on a raised platform, all dressed in smart black robes and elegant pointy hats, plucking away at renditions of Christmas tunes that Harry vaguely recognized. Closest to them, couples were spinning and dipping in dizzying circles. Not all too confident in his dancing, Harry was relieved when Luna stopped near the outskirts and they settled in a slower and much less complicated rhythm.

"Thanks," Harry mumbled once he was assured enough in his steps that he wouldn't stomp on her toes. "For, you know, getting me out of that."

Luna smiled up at him, one hand resting on his upper arm, the other gently clasped in his, which she gave an understanding squeeze. "I wouldn't want someone digging around in my aura either. Besides, Aurologists are notorious hypnotists – one moment they're reading your aura and the next you wake up from a deep slumber with all of your possessions stolen. Daddy wrote a scalding exposé on them a few years ago."

"Well, good thing you saved me then. Wouldn't want him raiding my trunk for any treasures." The beginning of a laugh all but died in his throat as he recalled that he actually did have items hidden in his trunk; a weathered potions book and a seemingly blank piece of parchment. Thankfully his third most prized possession was folded up tightly after his earlier escapade, stowed away beneath his robes. Feeling the cloak tucked against his side, his thoughts circled back to Malfoy. The desperate need to uncover his – well, whatever it was he was doing – clawed once again at the inside of his skull.

"If anything, I saved him. You looked ready to kill." Luna's tilted her head, considering, then amended, "Or at least seriously maim."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Harry agreed humorlessly, his mind already far away, wandering down deep into the dungeons. The cheerful tune playing around them felt out of place, like trying to disguise a troll with a dress. Or maybe it was just Harry who was the one out of place.

"There it is again." Luna said cryptically, drawing Harry back into the present.

"What?" Harry asked, but she didn't answer right away. Instead, head cocked to one side, Luna analyzed him, eyes carving out every last detail of his face.

"What happened? When you followed Professor Snape and Draco Malfoy out of the party?"

"Oh," Damn Luna and her perceptiveness, he had hoped her earlier eavesdropping comment had just been a lucky coincidence. "I didn't realize you noticed that. It's... it's nothing."

"Are you sure?" She asked sincerely, brows knitting together. "I couldn't help but notice that you seemed quite volatile after your return. I don't mean to pry, but..."

The invitation to speak freely dangled in the air in front of Harry. He had half a mind to come clean to her about his conspiracy regarding Malfoy. If there was anyone who would believe him, it would be Luna. The other half heeded Harry to hold his tongue; Ron and Hermione, just by association to him, could easily become targets if Harry was right and Malfoy decided to retaliate. Harry wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he purposefully dragged another person into murky waters, especially Luna who already faced harassment from other students. Luna, who had followed him on the back of a thestral into the dangers of the Department of Mysterious, not even a year ago.

"It's nothing." He lied, the memory of her flying into a desk and crumpling to the ground in an unconscious heap in the Brain Room flashing mercilessly in his mind's eye.

Harry could tell she didn't believe him by the way her large silvery eyes bored into his. But if Luna was disappointed in his dishonesty, she didn't show it.

"Okay." She accepted, surprisingly easily, and they continued their slow orbit. Harry wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or guilty, and his face no doubt showed it.

The last, drawn out note of the upbeat song reached it's finale and there was a small transitional silence before the strings bled into a slower waltz. On cue, Luna pulled away slightly to peer over his shoulder.

"We don't have to dance anymore. I think Slughorn has found a new victim for Mr. Blackwood to hypnotize." Something uncomfortable nestled into Harry's chest, but he followed her gaze anyway.

Sure enough, on the opposite side of the room, the potions master was pie-eyed as he watched Enoch perform the same sweeping eye motion over a seventh year Hufflepuff with a deep, drunken intensity. Poor sap. Harry's gaze swept back over the surrounding crowd, finding it even more clustered and sloppy than before. Remedial occlumency lessons with Snape seemed more appealing then throwing himself back into the throngs of intoxicated students and supposedly notable wizards.

And besides, dancing with Luna was actually quite nice. Sure, there were prying eyes peeking out at them, but nothing like the openly gaping stares he had received at the Yule Ball. During that, as one of the tournament champions, he had felt an immense pressure not only to perform but also to remember a slew of complicated moves. Luna's easy swaying was different. Normal. In fact, he felt incredibly normal, like any other student dancing with their date. Even if he was Harry "The Chosen One" Potter and she was Luna "Loony" Lovegood; the least normal pairing of them all.

"Well," He started, suddenly nervous, words coming out rushed, strung together like cursive. "I wouldn't mind – I, uh, maybe one more dance?"

By some miracle, Luna understood his bumbling attempt at a sentence. Her subsequent smile lit up her whole face, glittering like the morning sun across the lake.

"Alright," She said, still smiling as her hand settled back into his, the other sliding up past its previous position to rest instead at the crook of his neck. The feeling in his chest easing, Harry pushed his sliding glasses back up the bridge his nose before placing his hand on curve of her waist. The spangled material of her gown shifted under his timid fingertips. Without Harry even realizing it, Malfoy had became a far and distant thought.

They circled slowly, in sync this time with the other couples around them. Their proximity much closer than their last dance. Luna's temple was a breath away from his jaw and the curls escaping from her updo gently tickled at his skin. She smelled of something earthy, like she'd spent all day in the greenhouse with the soil and flowers, which was entirely plausible. Observing her discreetly as she hummed softly alongside the mandoline, her eyes closed with a lingering smile, a curious and fluttering feeling rattled itself up through Harry's stomach.

They had formed a comfortable friendship over the past year, between sneaking down to the the thestral clearing, D.A lessons and the occasional letter over the summer, but Harry had never stopped to think of Luna in _that_ way. The way he'd thought of Cho. Or the way he pretended to not think about Ginny.

She'd always been a spot of solace, a friend he could turn to when he needed a moment of stillness. Or a distraction by way of her whimsical stories. While he didn't always possess the ability to believe in everything as readily as Luna did, when he humored them, her extraordinary ideas made him feel like he was twelve. Discovering the endless wonders of magic for the first time all over again.

But as she sighed peacefully, leaning her head into his shoulder, bringing her body flush against his, Harry became fully aware that Luna was a girl. Not that he hadn't before, obviously. But that she was a _girl_ , and he was a _boy,_ and they were dancing very closely, and she was absentmindedly fingering the collar of his robes, sending shivers up the nape of his neck. The fluttering was now all consuming and _Merlin's beard_ the room was becoming suffocatingly warm.

The new epiphany nagged incessantly at the forefront of his mind as they eventually left the party, avoiding Slughorn as they slipped off the dance floor and back out into the deserted corridors.

This, dare he call it, attraction to Luna was initially surprising. He'd always found her fascinating, that he'd readily admit. And they'd spent a fair amount of time alone together, feeding the thestrals to escape Umbridge's regime. Sometimes they would spend the whole time talking freely, and sometimes they wouldn't say more than a greeting; if anything, Harry had just found her presence to be soothing when he didn't have anywhere else to turn to. And while she wasn't stunning in the same way as Cho, Luna did have a somewhat ethereal quality to her appearance. But Harry had really only fancied Cho because of her looks, and that hadn't worked out all too well in the end.

So maybe it wasn't all that surprising that he liked her, because she was... well, she was _just_ Luna. And he could be _just_ Harry around her, no "Chosen One" strings attached.

Their meandering walk back to the Ravenclaw Tower was a quiet one, the sounds of their footsteps echoing off the stone ground and through the arches. Luna seemed oblivious to the angry whirring of his racing thoughts, or was just being kind enough to not pry. Harry wasn't sure if he appreciated the privacy or if he wished she'd prompt him into sharing his ponderings. Even is she was the muse behind them.

"That was the most wonderful party I've ever been to," Luna said as they finally reached the base of her dormitory stairs. "Well, I suppose it's the only party I've even been asked too, but I won't let that fact mar my fond memories."

Her ability to be candid and innocently self deprecating at the same time always left Harry feeling like a fish out of water; wanting to reassure her but not really sure of how to go about it.

"I'm glad," He settled on, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I don't think I could've survived it without you."

Luna's eyes squinted almost imperceptibly at him despite his joking tone, and Harry became an open book under her scrutiny. Arms that had once been swinging like a slow metronome at her sides, making her dress shimmer under the dim lighting, stopped in their tracks.

"Oh, I highly doubt that." Her mouth pursed in thought. "You've survived much, much worse."

Harry wasn't sure how to respond to that. Instead he fled her stare by examining his unremarkable dress shoes, trying to stifle the swarm of memories that her response had unintentionally brought to the surface. Ever perceptive to his flow of emotions, Luna reached out and grabbed his hand and at the back of his mind, Harry noted that it was the second time that night she had held his hand in an act of comfort. It was proving to be a surprisingly effective tactic.

"But I'm delighted that I could help." Luna said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. Harry watched the action pulse through her pale hand to his before finally looking up at her again. "We've established a good symbiosis, I save you from nosy strangers and you're my friend."

Despite her lighthearted tone and matching smile, Harry frowned. It seemed like an extremely unbalanced symbiosis, and the fact that Luna thought of their friendship in such uneven terms struck a nerve. Especially now that he had an inkling that his feeling towards her were more than platonic. A pregnant pause hung between them as Harry struggled to string together the right words.

"Luna," He began, his voice low and sincere. "You know you're my friend too, right? I didn't invite you to ward people off. I asked you because you're my friend. _We're_ friends."

Her expression fell, becoming unreadable, and she stared up at him in a very un-Luna like expression. Harry couldn't recall a time when he had ever seen her so lost for words, searching his eyes as if she's find them hidden there.

Like a jinx to the face, much like his revelation on the dance floor, Harry realized that he and Luna were completely and utterly alone in an empty corridor. The inherent implications of such a situation caused him to swallow thickly, heart pounding like a hummingbird caged in his ribs. They both remained motionless, yet the torch light danced over them and their still tethered hands.

It would be so easy to reach out and touch her, Harry mused, probably the simplest task he had faced in a long time. Simpler than trying to mend Ron and Hermione's broken friendship. Simpler than trying to figure out Malfoy's clandestine plans. Simpler than coercing Slughorn into sharing his most hidden memory. Simpler than trying to make sense of Voldemort's insidious journey that led him to Harry.

If he lowered his head, he could simply press his lips against hers.

On tenterhooks for what could've been a small eternity or mere seconds, Harry barely let the idea take root before Luna blinked back to life. In one fell swoop, faster than he could process, she dropped his hand and flung her arms around him, pulling him into a bone crushing hug.

Caught completely off guard, Harry almost stumbled back at the sheer force of her embrace.

In such a soft whisper that it tickled his neck, Harry could just barely make out a: "Thank you."

As fast as she had sprung upon him, in a flash of silver spangles and curls, Luna untangled herself from him. Reeling from whiplash, Harry watched her make it halfway up the stairs before turning abruptly back to him on her heel.

"Goodnight Harry," She chimed, another dazzling smile lighting up the stairwell. "Happy Christmas!" And she was off again.

Speechless and still rooted in place, Harry stared up the stairwell where the blonde had disappeared, faintly hearing the echo of her speaking to gain access into the common room.

Everything had happened so suddenly, it took a moment for him to collect himself and his dizzying thoughts. Harry wondered what Ron would think knowing how close he had come to almost kissing Luna Lovegood, because honestly he wasn't all to sure himself of what to make of it.

All Harry knew as he unrooted himself and began his contemplative amble back to the Gryffindor tower, and finally back into his awaiting bed, was that sleep would not come easy tonight.

* * *

 **AN:** I rewrote this multiple times, but I think I like where it ended up. Nothing like a good slow burn, _amiright?_

I think going forward, I'm going to continue in chronological order, so either Bill & Fleur's wedding or Shell Cottage next. Maybe both (;

Thanks for the reviews/favorites/follows on the last chapter. Hope you enjoyed this one!

-M


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